


the dinner party

by meowrails



Series: a normal human politician [2]
Category: Half-Life
Genre: Age Difference, Alien Biology, Alien Sex, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, American Politics, American Sign Language, Cunnilingus, Deaf Character, Dom/sub Undertones, Emotional Manipulation, Hand Jobs, Interspecies Relationship(s), Kind of..., M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Possessive Behavior, Smut, Sugar Daddy, Tentacle Dick, Tentacle Sex, The author is indulgent what can i say, Trans Male Character, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, trans author
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:48:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26575546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meowrails/pseuds/meowrails
Summary: "Come with me." It’s not a request. Gordon doesn't mind, he wasn't going to say no. In the three weeks he’s known this odd old man, not once has Gordon thought about saying the word ‘no’. Anyone slightly wiser would warn him that it could get him killed. He doesn’t know this man’s intentions. He barely knows what exactly his jobis.However, Gordon knows that if this stranger wanted him dead, his body would already be unidentifiable and untraceable. The government man's arms might just be the safest place Gordon could possibly be.
Relationships: The G-Man/Gordon Freeman
Series: a normal human politician [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1932070
Comments: 22
Kudos: 163





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> well this au has been haunting me.
> 
> hello again! welcome to some more extremely self-indulgent gordon/gman funtimes. this was originally just going to be a one shot, but it became a bigger idea than i thought it was going to be. 
> 
> i'd recommend reading the first fic of the series for context.
> 
> also, i know i gave G-Man a name in this series but it was odd for me to write it out as often as i usually would for any other character. do you guys prefer i stick to the epithets with the occasional name? or would you prefer i stick to my headcanon name for him? let me know in the comments!

Gordon wonders if Black Mesa will notice he's spent none of his expenses on hotel rooms. 

He's been staying at the government man's large, elegant, minimalist home for the past two weeks. As much as Gordon insists that he can pay for his own food and necessities, the man will always wave him off. Gordon doesn't hide the fact he enjoys it. He's sure Nicolas gets off on it too.

Despite the fact that the arrangement makes it seem like Gordon has been doing nothing but having sex with an older man, Gordon has been far too busy having his interpreter help him make calls, organize meetings, and talk to all the insufferable politicians and government workers who probably don't understand half of what he's trying to explain. Gordon doesn't care whether or not it gets approved -- it probably will, with Nicolas' help and string pulling. The only thing that's keeping Gordon from throwing up out of the sheer anxiety that his theories will be used for weaponry is being able to see Nicolas again.

The man has virtually no schedule that Gordon has been able to keep track of. Gordon has seen him completely awake and fully dressed, speaking on the phone in Spanish as he rushes to his car at three in the morning. Sometimes he doesn't see the man for an entire day and only does once he wakes up with the taller man's arms around his waist. Sometimes Nicolas spends the day doing nothing but lounging around, reading and waiting for Gordon to finish his work so they can fuck again.

Obviously, they're having sex often. Neither of them pretend this arrangement was originally for anything but. It's far more than Gordon ever expected to have in his entire life. He learns that Nicolas likes having his cock sucked under his desk as he makes calls. Gordon learns he likes to get bent over and fucked from behind with his head pinned down to whatever surface the government man wants him on. He likes it when Nicolas calls him  _ young man _ or  _ boy _ . Gordon returns the favor by signing  _ yes, please _ or tracing the word  _ sir  _ against the man's broad back as he gets fucked. 

The favorite thing Gordon has learned so far is that nothing riles up Nicolas more than seeing Gordon wear his clothes. He stole Nicolas' button up after he showered, slightly larger than his usual size. He ended up getting lifted up on the kitchen counter with ease so Nicolas could eat him out. Gordon let Nicolas cum on his ankles, and the older man licked away every last drop in adoration. 

He asked Gordon who he belonged to. Gordon didn't think twice before signing  _ I belong to you _ . It earned him a hickey he can't hide beneath his shirt collar. If the people here in D.C know who it's from, they'll hopefully keep their mouth shut.

They haven't discussed that arousal driven conversation again. Gordon hasn't been able to think about anything else since.

He only has a week left. He's going to miss this once he goes back to New Mexico. Whatever the hell  _ this _ is. How is he going to find someone else who touches him like Nicolas does? How are they going to make this work? Would the older man even try?

Gordon tells himself he has a week until he has to worry and tries not to think about it. He does indulge himself in the fantasy of being able to tell Barney about his rich, older boyfriend. He's sure Barney would have a  _ lot  _ to say to Nicolas, not all of it kind. Hell, he might even try to give Nicolas the shovel talk -- with all the intimidating five feet and seven inches the security guard has to offer.

A hand places itself over the back of his neck. Gordon looks up at him. The government man sets his book to the side and places his other hand over Gordon's hip. Gordon feels flushed at the difference in their size. He's almost six feet tall, and yet Nicolas towers over him so easily. He's sitting between the older man's thighs, legs stretched out on the sofa and head resting on Nicolas' chest. 

"You are thinking... very loudly." The older man says. 

"You can read minds now?" Gordon chides.

"Not yet. You just... seem tense." He draws circles over Gordon's lower back. "What's troubling you?"

Gordon sighs and stares at the expensive looking painting hanging on the wall in front of him. It's a relatively small painting of two naked young men at the beach, staring at each other in a way that can't be construed as anything but longing. There are other paintings with a similar theme scattered across the house. Whoever Nicolas is, he's very much gay. And he doesn't give a damn about hiding it. 

Nicolas squeezes his hip.

"Do you think you'll be able to visit me?" Gordon asks. "And will I have to keep this a secret, considering you're-" He stops and gestures at Nicolas' body. "This."

The older man presses a kiss to Gordon's temple. "Missing me already... even when I'm not gone?"

Gordon frowns.

"I would like our...dalliance to evolve, yes. If that's... what you are referring to." Nicolas continues, still soothing down Gordon's back. "Of course, due to my status... it would be preferable that we keep it quiet. I wouldn't want anyone thinking I... play favorites."

"But you do."

"Oh, yes. You don't seem... to mind."

The man's hands slip beneath his shirt. Gordon moves closer to him, eager to see where this will go. He closes his eyes and turns down the volume of his hearing aids ever so slightly. Nicolas' voice becomes a whisper, each word enunciated against his skin as hands continue to wander through his body. "After all... you seem to be quite enthusiastic about the idea of being  _ mine _ ."

Gordon breathes out and nods. He musters enough focus to gesture at himself with his thumb, then pushes his palm close to his lover's chest. "I'm yours." He signs. "I'm yours."

"So nice... of Black Mesa to bring me the sweetest... most desperate scientist they have." Gordon lets out a whine. The government man gives no warning as he shoves his fingers into the younger man's dripping cunt. Gordon wraps his arms around Nicolas' neck and grinds down his hips to his touch. "Poor thing... how long has it been since anyone has given you... this much attention?"

Gordon breathes faster and trembles.  _ Poor thing _ . The phrase replays in his head in the same patronizing, faux-concerned tone that the older man used. He clenches around Nicolas' fingers as they start moving faster.

"No wonder you were so quick... to accept my advances." Nicolas teases. "Black Mesa brought their most brilliant mind... without taking into account that he would also be... their neediest little whore."

Gordon's eyes widen in shock at his own arousal. He's glad he lowered his hearing aids or else he would have heard himself let out a  _ very  _ embarrassing sound. It was like a cry and a whimper. Nicolas hums and grabs him by the back of his throat, holding his face steady so he can stare down at Gordon. The younger man is trapped in his lap, squirming and whining for anything. Gordon feels like he's burning, heat rising from both embarrassment and shame. He didn't expect himself to react so strongly to humiliation.

Maybe it's in the way Nicolas is holding him down like Gordon has no choice but to take the man's fingers. Maybe it's the way that Nicolas speaks with such a rare level of vulgarity that drives Gordon wild. Whatever it is, it makes Gordon want to repeat the phrase  _ I'm yours  _ over and over again. The man wouldn't do this to anyone else but someone that's his. Someone he owns. Someone who's as tender and malleable as clay. Gordon allows the heat of his body cocoon him like an oven and transform him into whatever Nicolas wants him to be.

He digs his fingers into Nicolas' skin, drawing blood. Gordon cums knowing Nicolas is entranced at the sight of him. Completely fixated on the way Gordon squirms and gaps in his arms. Nicolas is stuck in the haze of watching Gordon clean and suckle at the fingers that were inside him just a few moments ago. He opens his eyes and meets Nicolas'. He runs his fingertips over the marks he left on the man's shoulder. The old man's skin is just as malleable as his own.

He just noticed that Nicolas is jerking himself off as he holds Gordon's tired body on his lap. That won't do. Still panting, the young man swats his hand away and straddles Nicolas' cock. Gordon buries his face into the crook of the man's neck as he grinds his dripping, oversensitive pussy against the man's cock. Nicolas' hands grasp at his hips, helping him keep a steady pace he can barely focus on. Gordon knows Nicolas is about to cum when he feels the familiar feeling of fingernails digging into his skin. The older man finishes quietly, the only sound that lingers is a low growl and hard breaths from the two of them.

Gordon feels a kiss pressed to his neck and a soothing, large hand running up and down his spine. He lets the cum between his legs drip to the sofa. He'll let whoever cleans Nicolas' house worry about it.

The older man pats his thighs. "Get up. I don't think I'm going to be... able to carry you to be... Doctor."

He snorts out a laugh and does as told. Gordon flexes his arms. "I could try." He signs.

"Absolutely not." The government man says, looking up and closing his eyes as he always does when he's avoiding Gordon's gaze. It's a weird habit, but he doesn't question it. 

Gordon waves him off and shrugs. "Your loss."

He doesn't wait for Nicolas to follow him as he makes his way upstairs. He turns off the light behind him and doesn't notice the light coming from Nicolas' eyes. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


The older man quickly looks at the floor to hide it. Curse his species' eyes. It's a sign of anxiousness and arousal he can never hide, not even in this form. It was never an issue until he met Doctor Freeman. Countless centuries and millions of forgettable humans, and this odd little scientist has managed to capture him completely.

It's not often that Nicolas wishes he had human blood. Blushing would be much more preferable to this. He can't hide this forever.

\---

Cigarette smoke always reminded Gordon of moments he hated. Standing at the corner of a college party next to a man he just met. Stomping his boots into the mud on his front yard while his mother smokes. The times Gordon learned how to read her lips when she knew he couldn't hear her, cursing a name that never belonged to him in the first place. Gordon still hates cigarettes, but now he has a new memory of laying on a comfortable, expensive, large bed as he watches an older man in nothing but a robe lean against his window. 

The cold, Virginia air whispers from the opening. Gordon curls up against the soft blanket. No matter how much Nicolas smokes, nothing ever smells like tobacco. Not his clothes, not his hair, not his skin. Nothing sticks to him except the smell of nice cologne. Gordon can't smell anything, not even when he sweats. Not even when Gordon's face is pressed to the crook of his neck or between his legs. He brushes his fingertips against the long sleeves of the shirt the older man let him steal. Gordon wishes it smelled like something, even cigarettes. He wants something to remember him by. Hickies and scratches leave eventually. Emotions come and go. Smell is the strongest sense tied to memories. How will he be able to be sure that Nicolas existed in the first place when this is all over? 

He doesn't want to be a pessimist, but Gordon likes to prepare himself for any probability. He's just a minor scientist who happened to be picked for a glorified show and tell across the country. Nicolas' position of power is so confidential that the senators that cower at his feet don't even know what exactly he does. He doesn't know anything about the other man. Maybe Nicolas intends to keep it that way.

He taps the bedside table to get Nicolas' attention.

"Come to bed. It's cold." Gordon pouts.

The older man gestures at his hand. He even holds cigarettes elegantly, the bastard. "I'm halfway done. This is my... last one."

Gordon grimaces and exaggerates his shiver. " _ I'm _ cold."

Nicolas grumbles and continues to smoke at the edge of the bed instead, sitting beside Gordon. He rests his free hand on Gordon's hair and strokes it gently, careful not to touch his hearing aid. "I was invited to a dinner party..."

Gordon looks up at him.

"A small... charity event. All the donations will go to cancer research... and most likely right back to a politician's pocket."He hums. "I... was thinking of going."

The younger man rests his head on his palm, smiling expectantly. "And you need a plus one?" He asks, raising an eyebrow.

The government man studies him. "Come with me." It’s not a request. Gordon doesn't mind, he wasn't going to say no. In the three weeks he’s known this odd old man, not once has Gordon thought about saying the word ‘no’. Anyone slightly wiser would warn him that it could get him killed. He doesn’t know this man’s intentions. He barely knows what exactly his job  _ is.  _

However, Gordon knows that if this stranger wanted him dead, his body would already be unidentifiable and untraceable. The government man’s arms might just be the safest place Gordon could possibly be.

"Let... me show you off."

Gordon rolls his eyes. "There's not a lot to show off."

The older man gently grabs his chin and pulls Gordon's face until he's looking at himself at the nearest mirror. He watches Nicolas loom over him, a gentle hand strokes the side of his cheek. "You're deaf... not blind. You're a very handsome man... Doctor Freeman."

He blushes. "I'm technically blind without glasses." Gordon signs.

The man hums near his temple and kisses it. Gordon can hear him breathing this close. "C-Come... with me."

"I don't have anything to wear."

"All the better. I can... spoil you even more that I already have. I'll get you a new suit. I think you've earned it."

Gordon closes his eyes for a moment. "When is it?"

"A week."

"I'll be back in New Mexico by then." Gordon signs, worried.

"Not if I... have anything to say about it. Just a few more days."

They stare at each other. Nicolas' eyes are so blue. Too blue. Only one shade of blue covers his iris. They look fake, but Gordon sees no indication that he's wearing contacts.

For a moment, Gordon swears they glow, flickering like a light bulb someone quickly shut off. 

"Come with me."

Gordon holds Nicolas by either side of his face and pulls him in for a kiss. He pulls away and nods. 

Nicolas takes another cigarette from his pocket before Gordon can steal it away. This time, Gordon follows him to the window. He leans against the older man's thin frame and focuses on the sight of the smoke drifting into the air. The man beside him provides no warmth from his cold skin, Gordon isn't sure if he can even retain heat. 

Whatever this man is may remain a mystery. He's so pale his skin reflects in the moonlight. Gordon knows a thing or two about hiding who he truly is, especially in the unsaid truce that rules over every hook up. Nicolas doesn't pry. Neither will he.

Take off his mask and he might be a monster. That's fine. Right now, this stranger feels like a dream.

He laces his fingers with Nicolas' free hand. He's as cold as the winter night that surrounds them.

Gordon wakes up the next morning alone in a large bed that isn't his. His hands are still cold. For once, the smell of tobacco lingers.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahahahaaa... as you can see there are new tags! i hope you enjoy them

Nicolas doesn't arrive until late in the afternoon. When he does, he comes in with an announcement and the offer of a scarf.

"Get dressed. It's cold.... but I am never sure how busy I will be. I am not busy now... let's buy you a suit."

Gordon tries to finish his noodles as quickly as possible before he changes. He tries to dress better than he usually would when he's seen next to Nicolas. The man is so well-put together all the time. Gordon would much rather wear a t-shirt and jeans, and he's sure Nicolas wouldn't care. Still, it's worth it in the nice hum that escapes his lover's lips and the gentle squeeze on his shoulder as he fixes Gordon's jacket. 

"Are we getting matching suits?" Gordon teases. Nicolas makes a face.

"Of course not. I would... like you to wear more color."

"Do you ever wear any color?" 

Nicolas pauses. "My tie is purple... That's more than e-enough."

Gordon rolls his eyes and turns off his hearing aid as the older man plays his terrible music. Nothing will baffle him more than Nicolas' taste for experimental electronic garbage. He thinks it's oddly charming.

They enter a shopping center right at the heart of D.C, where everything is overpriced and Gordon can't believe _anyone_ would live here by choice. He stays close to Nicolas as they walk by the extravagant looking stores. 

It's interesting to watch Nicolas around so many regular people. The differences are subtle, but there are many. Gordon never noticed them when he was around politicians because politicians don't exactly act like normal people either. There's something odd in the man's gait, something that could be disguised as a problem with his knees, but the man is so fast Gordon has trouble keeping up with him. The suit he's wearing would never keep a man of his weight warm with this weather, but he seems unaffected by heat or cold. They stop to eat at the food court, and Nicolas orders the smallest burger he can possibly get. He eats it entirely with a fork and knife, and seems to eat because it's expected, not because he's hungry. Gordon has never seen him hungry. Well, not food anyway.

Gordon watches Nicolas pour far too much sugar into his coffee in silence. He gets a glance. "You're... thinking again."

Gordon rolls his eyes. "Sorry for having a brain. It does that sometimes." He signs, huffing. 

The older man pauses. "...Ask away."

Gordon flexes his fingers as he thinks.

"Everything I want to ask you is probably classified."

Nicolas shrugs. "Perhaps. But... you may still try. Someone here might know... the power I have, so I will have to keep any answers... vague."

The younger man squints and signs, keeping his expression serious and slightly annoyed. "Where are you from?"

"Buenos Aires." Nicolas replies immediately, with an accented pronunciation. "That's... not the answer you expected."

Gordon blinks. "No. It wasn't." He pauses. 

"How was your childhood?"

"Better... than you probably assume it was."

Gordon frowns. "When were you born?"

The government man leans back in his seat and smiles. "In the winter..."

Vague, almost too vague. Gordon frowns. "How old are you?"

Nicolas chuckles. "Old enough that I fear... someone will mistake me for your father. Naughty... naughty, Doctor Freeman."

Gordon isn't surprised at the lack of answers, considering his questions were _very_ straightforward and nosy. Of course he can't know. What did he expect?

A steady hand rests over his own, not to stop him from communicating but to calm him. Gordon breathes out through his nose and asks one last question.

"Will I be allowed to know anything about you?"

The older man doesn't often break eye-contact. His gaze is always steady, unnervingly so on purpose. Eyes that you can't look away from, the sort a mad monk would dream of having. Gordon tries to find an expression he understands in the other man's face. All he finds is regret, Gordon is sure he has to be wrong.

It takes Gordon a moment to realize that Nicolas is signing back.

"Gordon." He says, a sign that combines the word for scientist and _pet_. "I know it's difficult to trust me when I keep so many secrets." Nicolas hits his chest with fervor, enunciating the words with stronger facial expressions than he's ever seen from the man. "But I am here only to survey and supervise. I am not here to do harm. Only to observe."

Gordon stares and finds that he has nothing to say. 

He trusts each word that comes from Nicolas' hands completely, despite his better judgment.

Nicolas sighs. His signs grow softer. "I will never let anything hurt you."

"I didn't think you would."

His eyebrows raise. No one else would notice them do so, no would dare look up at all. Gordon notices. Nicolas places a hand over his eyes to cover the glow. If it wasn't so bright, he might be able to see a bit if light peeking from between his bony fingers.

"We should... get your suit now." Nicolas says aloud. Gordon manages to get most of it even if he can't properly read his lips. He stands up and walks away at a brisk pace that Gordon has to try to keep up with. Nicolas doesn't look back at him once, leaving Gordon unable to say anything else.

They arrive at the shop. Nicolas hands Gordon a blazer with a deep red fabric. It's not his favorite color, but it looks nice on him. The tailor takes his measurements as Nicolas watches closely. Gordon meets his eyes -- they're no longer glowing, and his gaze is back to its imperious, unreadable default state. 

He looks at himself in the mirror. The suit hasn't been properly fitted, but the colors are nice. Gordon doesn't even want to know how much it costs, but he knows Nicolas is paying extra to have it done on time. Gordon can't imagine how life must be with this much money. He feels like Julia Roberts in _Pretty Woman_ , which he's only watched because it's Barney's favorite movie.

A pair of large hands rest on his shoulders and squeeze.

"You look... wonderful. Do... you like it?"

Gordon nods and fixes his deep purple tie. He raises an eyebrow and points at it, then at Nicolas' tie. 

The older man smiles as he shrugs. "We.. can have _s-something_ that matches."

Gordon isn't one for public displays of affection, so he settles for squeezing Nicolas' hand. It makes his partner look annoyingly pleased with himself. 

The rest of the day is simple. Gordon all but forces Nicolas to follow him to the nearest Spencer's Gifts and buys an anime figurine he hasn't been able to find in New Mexico. Nicolas insists on paying for it, and as hilarious as he imagines the image of Nicolas holding a eighty-dollar Miku figure would be, he manages to buy it for himself. Nicolas leads Gordon to the nearest coffee shop and orders the most sickeningly sweet latte Gordon's ever heard of. 

Gordon breaks the silence on the ride home and taps Nicolas' shoulder.

"So... Buenos Aires? Is Spanish your first language?"

Nicolas lets out a hum that makes Gordon think he's not too keen on this conversation. "Spanish and German."

Gordon winces. "Was your family... escaping Germany by any chance?"

Nicolas sighs and signs his answer, glancing at their driver to make sure he isn't listening. "No. I was born far before that was even a thing."

"How long ago?"

Nicolas doesn't look too apologetic when he responds. "You know I can't answer that, Gordon."

Gordon clenches his jaw and raises his eyebrows. He probably looks more "But you used to be human. I just want to know what you are now."

There's something in the look that Nicolas gives him that chills him to his core. Gordon finds himself leaning away from the other man. For once, he doesn't hide the glow in his eyes. Gordon looks away, but he can see the light from the corner of his eyes. 

He closes them. Nicolas tugs at his wrist and squeezes hard.

"I will say this only... one more time, Doctor Freeman. Every bit of... information you learn about me puts y-you farther and... farther in danger. I have spent... decades without allowing anyone to get as c-close as you have." He grabs Gordon's chin. "Don't. Make. Me. Regret. This."

Gordon keeps his gaze steady. "Don't hurt me." He signs slowly.

"I sincerely hope... I do not have to." Nicolas clicks his tongue. 

The older man goes back to his seat and looks out his window as if the past few seconds never happened. "Ah, and... I'm ordering you some... chinese food for your dinner. Don't worry."

Gordon lifts his fingers to his chin and breathes out his nose. 

He locks himself in a guest bedroom the instant they arrive at the mansion. Nicolas, thankfully, does not follow or knock on his door even after an hour has passed. Gordon needs to talk to someone. Anyone.

It's only nine. There's no way Barney isn't awake.

Gordon goes to the nearest desk and rests his phone against the wall as he video calls his best friend. He fiddles with his fingers and tries to calm himself down. The last thing he wants to do is make it seem like he's in some sort of danger.

He doesn't know if he is yet.

Barney's tired face smiles at him through the decent connection. Thankfully, Black Mesa's internet has to be rock solid at all times. Gordon hopes his connection isn't being blocked. "Hey, Barney." He signs. His inner-joke sign for Barney's name is a combination of the word _cowboy_ and _fuckboy._

"Gordon! What the hell?! I thought you were suppose to be back like two fuckin' days ago. Are ya still stuck in D.C?"

Gordon shrugs. "The proposal is gonna take longer than I thought." He lies. "It hasn't been completely terrible, though."

"Well, that's good. 'Cause if I was up there havin' to tolerate a bunch of politicians all day, I'd just shoot myself. Bunch of filthy, perverted liars. Did'ya ask any of 'em about aliens yet?"

Gordon tenses up. Barney's conspiracy theories have never been a problem until now. He lets out a laugh, "Barney, I'm doing actual serious work up here."

"And the truth ain't serious?"

"Area 51 is just a three hour drive if you want to apply over there so badly."

Barney rolls his eyes. "Fuck off."

Gordon tells him what he can. He mentions the ridiculously expensive malls, the awful traffic getting into D.C, the politicians he's met and the overload of security he had to get through just to step inside the Pentagon. Barney, of course, interjects with minor tidbits of stories he's heard about certain politicians and buildings in D.C. Gordon almost considers asking Nicolas about them later.

Of course, as if on queue, there's a knock on the door. Gordon widens his eyes and stumbles out of the chair.

"Gordon?" Barney asks. "You alright, man?"

The door opens before he can stop it. Nicolas looks at him almost sadly. Apologetically, even. 

"I... brought you some food. I... t-texted you that it was here but you never came down."

Gordon sighs and gives him a _thank you_. 

"...We should talk."

The younger man gestures at the phone, where Barney is still watching all of this. Fuck. _Fuck_. "I'm actually talking to someone right now."

Nicolas glances at the phone and curses. "Well... shit." He closes the door and Gordon hears hurried footsteps as he walks away.

"Uh... who's that, Gordon?"

Gordon rubs his temples. "He's a friend I'm staying with." He signs, settling back to his chair.

"A... _friend._ I didn't know you had _friends_ in D.C."

"We're technically in Virginia."

Barney purses his lips. "Didn't know you had friends that were so old, too."

"Barney-"

"Remember when we got drunk and you were signin' so badly you had to write shit out? And all you wrote on a piece of paper was _I like fuckin' older guys?"_

"Barney. Fuck off."

"'Cause he's... _old_ old. Fuckin' hell, Doc. I can't tell if he's fifty or ninety-five."

"Shut up!" Gordon slaps his hands together. "He's just a friend."

Barney does, thankfully. They sit in silence for a moment. Gordon feels his face burning up, he wonders how red it must look through the camera. He's not looking at his phone right now.

"Please, don't tell anyone." He signs.

Barney does the motion of zipping up his lips and throwing away the zipper. "Secret's safe with me, Doc."

"Thank you." Gordon huffs. 

The security guard twirls a pen in his hands. "Can I ask ya somethin' serious, for once?"

Gordon smiles. "Are you okay?"

"Fuck off. Listen, uh... I ain't gonna pry. I know you're a private guy. Just makin' sure... he's good, right? He's treatin' ya good? He ain't a slimy old fuck?"

Gordon isn't sure how he can tell Barney that Nicolas is both a slimy old fuck that _also_ treats him very well. "I'm safe, Barney. Trust me. I'll be back soon."

That makes Barney give him one of ridiculously charming smiles. It's annoying that it's his genuine one, too. Gordon promises he'll keep in touch and hangs up. He stares at the black screen of his phone and stares at his reflection. 

He takes his phone and texts Nicolas.

**We can talk now. If you want.**

He hears footsteps that should be too fast for a man his age. Nicolas is still holding the box of Chinese food when he opens his door. Gordon can't help but smile. 

"I'm not hungry right now." He signs.

The older man frowns. "You... have not eaten in... seven hours."

He pats the bed. "Just put that aside and get over here."

Nicolas walks over and leans forward for a kiss. Gordon pushes back his lips with a finger. "Ah, ah, _ah-"_ He says, hoping that he doesn't say it too loudly, then moves his hand back to sign. "You were going to apologize to me, I think?"

The government man huffs and ends up kneeling on the floor between Gordon's legs. He's still ridiculously tall, but so is this mattress frame. It's the first time he's ever seen Nicolas... from a lower angle. He doesn't usually look down when the man is eating him out. He almost looks cute.

"I... sincerely and truly... apologize for my behavior in the c-car." The older man seems to struggle with apologizing, pausing more than usual. Gordon knows it isn't solely because of his trouble speaking. He runs his fingertips over the man's temple. Cold to the touch. "I meant it when I said I do... not... want to hurt you."

Gordon breathes out. "I just want to know more about you. And I don't think I'll ever be allowed to."

Nicolas clicks his tongue. "Probably not..." He says, bluntly. "But... If you cannot know about... me. Or see me. I may... still be able to let you _feel_ me."

He raises an eyebrow. The older man stands and pushes Gordon back on the mattress. Slender hands begin to unbutton his shirt. He leans close, as if he's sharing a secret. Gordon wonders if Nicolas' house is wired. "My... true biology is... much different from your own. No one is allowed to s-see it. But, if you get on your knees and allow me... to cover your eyes... you'll still be the only one that has even... had the honor of feeling my true... skin."

Gordon snorts at the notion that this would be an _honor_ and runs a hand down his chest. "That works for me."

"Get... on your knees for me." 

Nicolas leans away and begins to take off his clothes. Gordon allows himself to savor the moment before he follows suit and turns to rest on his stomach. He props up on his knees and hands and waits patiently. The older man is undressing completely, which is not very common. Gordon has only seen him completely naked twice, and that was only because they were showering together.

Gordon feels the man press against him and closes his eyes. When he opens them again, he sees nothing but black. Nicolas is blindfolding him with his tie. He usually uses it as a gag. This is new. 

"I... apologize, but I cannot risk... you seeing me. Is this alright?"

Gordon nods against the pillow.

After tying up his makeshift blindfold, Nicolas' fingers trail to his ear. He stops at his hearing aid. 

"May I also... take this off?"

Gordon hasn't had sex with Nicolas without it. These past couple of weeks have been the longest Gordon has ever worn them. Gordon doesn't usually care about hearing other people's voice -- he came from a hearing family. He can read lips most of the time. Most scientists in his department know at least the basic ASL needed to hold a conversation due to Gordon's position. It offers him the privacy he enjoys and a comfortable distance from everyone else. But Nicolas' voice... Maybe it's the oddness of it. Maybe it's the things he says and the mystery surrounding him that makes Gordon not want to miss a single word.

But he doesn't want to miss this either.

He nods and reaches to take off his aid himself. Gordon reaches over to the bedside table and places it there, then goes back to his previous position and breathes out. Nicolas ruffles his hair in a notion that reminds Gordon of the words _good boy_ . His face feels hot. He imagines the older man calling him a good boy, a good _dog._

Gordon rests his face against the pillow and waits. Nicolas' large hands trail through his skin, his large, hardening cock pressing against his backside. Suddenly, Gordon can't feel Nicolas at all. He stays still as instruction, heart beating against his chest. The next thing he senses is a shift of the weight of the bed. Something so large that Gordon can feel the bed frame straining beneath him.

He feels something damp and thick press to his backside. It's almost slimy, actually, but not uncomfortably so. Gordon moves back against it and shivers. 

Two limbs push him down by his shoulders, pinning him down to the mattress. Gordon's breathing is muffled by it but he can't bring himself to care. Ass up, knees spread -- something that feels like a giant, thick tongue begins to touch and press against his clit. But he can feel Nicolas' chest against his back, his... limbs wrapping around his wait until they're as close as they could possibly be. Gordon's eyes open inside his blindfold when he realised that the thing touching his pussy is Nicolas' cock. Or whatever it's called in his species.

Gordon has no idea how loud his whimpering must be. Despite the loss of sight and lack of hearing, he feels overloaded with everything he can feel. The being against him is large, far larger than Nicolas already as a human. He's even colder now. His body is so hot from the arousal and anxiety that he swears that it could steam when Nicolas touches him. Gordon feels the limb that might be a cock press against his entrance. Tentacle cock? Whatever. Gordon pushes back and tries to beg for the other man to fill him. He swears he's getting fucked by just a third of the thing's size. He can take it. He wants to take it.

He tries to say Nicolas' name. He has no idea how it sounds, but the word rolls nicely off his tongue. He's rewarded with more, _more_ , until Gordon is clawing at the bed with each thrust. Still pinned down. Still surrounded completely by nothing but this mysterious, horrible, captivating being. He whines against the mattress as Nicolas thrusts into his cunt. Gordon tries to reach down to touch the thing fucking him, but a limb grabs his by his wrist. Gordon gives him his other hand. Nicolas restraints him, hands behind his back covered in some sort of slime what holds them together. Is this a part of him? Gordon can't analyze like this, and all he can focus on is getting filled and fucked. He wouldn't be surprised if that was Nicolas' intention.

The seemingly prehensile cock feels like nothing Gordon has ever felt before. It curves inside him in a way that makes Gordon want to scream. He claws at the bedsheets and tries to move his hips in time with Nicolas's thrusts. He has no idea how he'll ever be able to return to only getting fucked by normal, human cocks after this. He feels the older man growl against him. Nicolas has ruined him.

Whatever Nicolas turned into, it surrounds him. Multiple tentacle like-limbs caress each inch of his skin. A thicker one finds its way between his lips and fucks Gordon's mouth. He feels a rumble against his skin -- vibrations of a deep voice that Gordon cannot hear. Does he sound like the Nicolas he knows, even like this?

When he cums, he's turned to lay on his back, still blind and bound. Still getting fucked and filled and touched all over. Gordon tries to reach out to touch the being fucking him but his hands are pressed to his chest. A gentle touch comes to his cheek, leaving a certain dampness against his skin that Gordon doesn't mind. 

He might be crying, he isn't sure. He's too overwhelmed to know.

The tentacle doesn't stop, fucking him through the afterglow of his orgasm and even until he can get aroused again. Is Nicolas not sated yet? Does he need more than a human? Or is he doing this for Gordon

Gordon throws his head back. He tries to sign with his hands bound, unable to form a proper sentence beyond the words _please_ and _want._ He gets what he needs and he ends up cumming again, clenching around the limb inside him. That must have finally been enough. The limbs around him go limp for a moment before letting go. The tentacle inside him cums. In the haze of his orgasm, Gordon wonders what color it might be.

He's cleaned up by a large tongue, far too large for it to be a human's. He's fucked out beyond belief, any contact against his oversensitive clit is making him squirm and let out small breaths that no doubt make an embarrassing sound.

Nicolas separates himself completely. Gordon lies on the bed panting, naked, and alone.

He just got fucked by an alien. Maybe it's the exhaustion, but he feels like he should be yelling and going insane with the excitement. Aliens are real _and_ they work in the government? Barney would lose his mind.

Gordon feels nothing but warmth.

He doesn't know how long it is until he feels a weight on the bed again. A more familiar weight. Nicolas raises the blindfold over his eyes and cups his cheek. 

"Are you alright?" He asks, signing.

Gordon blinks. It's Nicolas above him. Nicolas touching him. Nicolas looking completely, and unmistakably human despite the glow in his eyes.

No, not human. He doesn't want to use that as a description for the best state a living being can be, especially now that he knows they're not alone.

He looks dangerous. Gordon jumps into the dragon's mouth.

There's a slight curve to his lips, a glint in his eyes. A cold thumb gently strokes his cheek. He's only able to see the older man by the moonlight from the open window. Gordon tries to imagine a monster, tries to arrange the limbs and senses into a creature that makes sense. 

"I still want to see you someday." Gordon signs.

"I don't want to scare you away." The government man signs back.

"I wouldn't run away. I would study you." Gordon clenches his fists and sits in front of Nicolas. "I understand that the knowledge comes with a price and danger. That's alright. It would be worth it. I'm a scientist, I try to make sense of the illogical universe that surrounds us. Nicolas-" He signs, spelling his name instead of the usual sign of the word _politician_ he does when they're in public. "You're a scientist's dream."

The older man presses his face against Gordon's shoulder. Gordon feels a vibration akin to a purr. "And what's your current hypothesis?" He says, maybe too distracted to remember Gordon doesn't have his aid at the moment. He manages to read his lips well enough to manage answering.

"That my body is sore and I need a shower." He complains. 

Nicolas picks him up. A bridal carry, if he remembers the term correctly. A man his age shouldn't be able to pick him up with such ease. 

Gordon closes his eyes and leans against him.

The next minutes are a haze. Large hands gently rub soap over his body. He hasn't stopped leaning against Nicolas. His legs almost give out when he feels fingers that clean him between his legs. Gordon holds Nicolas' hand by his wrist and keeps it there. _Touch me again,_ he signs. He reads Nicolas' lips. _Again?_ They ask. Gordon nods and moves his closer to the man's touch. Gordon holds Nicolas by his shoulders so tightly, as if he was dangling off a cliff. 

  
  


\---

Nicolas should have left his grasp thirty minutes ago. His phone continues to buzz at the bedside table. It somehow doesn't wake up the human against him -- he must be truly exhausted. Gordon has him by a death grip, the warmth emitting from his skin is more addictive than nicotine will ever be. 

The older man looks through properties in New Mexico and sighs, setting his phone aside once more. Gordon exhales against his neck. Nicolas falls further.

Freeman was supposed to be nothing more than a plaything. An indulgent forray back into old habits he tried to let go off after the last human he wanted broke his non-existent heart by having the audacity to be mortal.

Nicolas ignores his employer's calls. He will have to convince them of putting off the resonance for another hundred years. It's fairly simple, a hundred years is nothing to their kind. He tells himself it is only to spend more time with Doctor Freeman, but he closes his eyes to the sound of the winter wind outside. A bird signs at the dawn of the day. The sun looks down upon a fragile world. Gordon squeezes his hand in his sleep. It's odd to recejve a gift from fate without having to bend time and space to obtain it. How can infinite power possibly compare to the warmth on the back of his palm?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments and kudos are appreciated <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy shit a new chapter??? finally!
> 
> thank you for everyone who has waited patiently and anyone who clicked for the first time!
> 
> this story has taken quite a turn and a plot! i added an extra chapter because i realized where i want to take it. i hope you guys enjoy it!
> 
> as always, comments and kudos are appreciated! <3
> 
>  **warnings for this chapter:** upping the ante on manipulation on this one, so fair warning. i still want g-man to he a likable charactef of course but he's still an fucked up, manipulative man.

Gordon sets the scientific journal he was reading aside and walks towards the man that has been glancing at him for the better part of the hour.

He stands between Nicolas' legs and raises his eyebrows.

"You're thinking." He signs. It earns him a chuckle.

"It's been... difficult trying to focus on my work... with you here." 

Gordon signs nothing as he thinks. He looks at the man's hands. His long fingers. He doesn't have to tell Nicolas how it's also been hard for him to focus on anything else. He gets on his knees and rests his head on the older man's thigh. 

"Focus on me, then." 

Nicolas runs his long fingers through Gordon's hair. Gordon closes his eyes. "Are you looking forward... to the event tomorrow?"

He nods and looks up at the older man. He lazily signs the word  _ nervous.  _

"Why?"

Gordon sits up straight and sighs. "I don't go to parties a lot. No one knows ASL, there's too many people. I've never had a nice suit until you bought me once." Gordon shrugs. "And it's our last night together."

Nicolas' hand moves from Gordon's hair to his chin. He lifts up Gordon's face and strokes it with his thumb. "Well... we should make it count. I did say I was going... to show you... off."

The younger man tries to break eye contact as his face feels flush. "They'll probably find me very boring. Or not like me very much."

"Most likely. Because... they're all idiots. And... none of them are fond of me either." He hums. Gordon closes his eyes and leans into his lover's hand.

The silence grows, but the comfort doesn't leave them. Gordon slowly breathes through his nose as Nicolas strokes his hair and cheek. He rests his head back on the man's thigh and enjoys the dominance and affection.  _ Who's dominating who? _ He wonders. Gordon is sitting on his knees between a man's legs, but Nicolas is the one who can focus on nothing else but a mere human. He tilts his head to look up at the government man's eyes. 

"I really... must finish these... documents."

Gordon lets out a wicked smile and closes his eyes, still resting on Nicolas' thigh. 

"I suppose you... must make me suffer, then."

He shrugs. "I could always leave the room." 

"Or... we could make use of your position." The older man lowers one hand to his belt, fingers at the edge of his zipper. "If you'd... like."

Gordon stares at the hand sneaking over the belt and nods slowly. His head already feels hazy at the thought. Incredible how much a month can change a man. He wouldn't even think about sex in Black Mesa, it felt like an afterthought. He barely had enough time to hang out with Barney, let alone worry about anything more than masturbating or asking his best friend if he was up for another  _ friendly  _ night together. Now here he was. On his knees, salivating for an older man's cock. Gordon moves closer and presses his nose to the man's growing bulge.

He looks up. Nicolas grabs him by the back of his hair and pulls his face away just enough to unzip his pants. Gordon waits obediently. Nicolas takes his cock by the base and rests it against Gordon's face, tracing his lips with the head. Gordon licks his lips clean and parts his mouth. His cock slides down his throat like he was made to take it. Gordon tries to bob his head, but Nicolas' iron grip on his hair stops him from sucking him off.

"No, no. You're just... staying put for now. Think of yourself as... a decoration." The older man strokes his fingertips over his temple. Gordon whimpers as a bit of drool drips down the corning of his lips. Nicolas pushes his hips and his eyes begin to sting. Thankfully, the man pulls Gordon's head back until his lips are only wrapped a little bit farther than the head. An act of mercy. Gordon takes a bit more just to prove he can. 

Nicolas leans back in his seat and scratches his hair. Gordon looks up and meets his gaze. Nicolas signs the words  _ good boy _ . 

Gordon moans and closes his eyes. He takes off his hearing aid and focuses on nothing else but the cock in his mouth. The weight of it, the way it slowly hardens between his lips as the minutes pass by. The way Nicolas gets so entranced in his work that he strokes Gordon's hair like he's nothing more than an afterthought. A cockwarmer. A pet. Gordon clenches his thighs together. There's something almost liberating in not having to think about anything else but the cock in his mouth and the hand lingering on the back of his neck. Nicolas could grab his hair and fuck his throat at any time.

Gordon wonders if he's allowed to touch himself at all. He doubts it, considering Nicolas has been tugging at his hair rather harshly whenever Gordon dares make a sound. The younger man whimpers to feel the pain again. Nicolas grants it. He might begin to suspect that Gordon is doing it on purpose. Gordon offers the submissiveness as a gift.

Nicolas sets his papers aside and moves his hips. Gordon almost chokes on it, he  _ wants  _ to choke on it. He holds the older man's hips as the man grabs his head by his ears. Gordon wonders what sounds he must be making as the older man grips his shoulders and keeps his cock all the way down his throat. Tears form at the edge of his eyes, his head is pulled back and Gordon takes the opportunity to breathe. Nicolas lets go of him and signs the words  _ be a good boy and continue. _

Gordon nods and does as told. His mind slips somewhere fuzzier, more comfortable as he bobs his head on Nicolas' cock. He can feel the man tensing around him. Gordon can imagine his expression -- closed eyes, a furrowed brow, parted lips. Cheeks flushed in a way that almost makes him look human. He moans around the man's cock and keeps his head steady when a large hand goes to grab his hair once more.

Nicolas cums down his throat. Gordon swallows every last drop just as he always does. He wants to prove he can be good is the dirtiest way possible. It's always been Gordon, top student. Gordon, the perfect daughter and son. Gordon, employee of the month. Gordon cleans up a politician's cock with his tongue and looks up at him expectantly. 

Nicolas scratches his hair. Gordon, a good boy.

The older man pats his lap. "Sit between my legs." He signs.

Gordon settles between Nicolas' legs and rests his back against his chest. No time is wasted -- a hand slips under his pants and teeth nibble at the side of his neck. Gordon whimpers and bucks his hips. He feels Nicolas' breath against his skin and fumbles to grab his hearing aid from his pocket. " _ Wait. Wait _ \--" He signs. 

The older man stops and waits for Gordon to turn on his hearing aid once more.

"Speak to me." He signs, leaning his head back on Nicolas' shoulder. Nicolas rests a hand on his chest to hold him steady, the other slips under his waist once more, where it belongs. 

"If only Black Mesa would... allow me to keep you..." Nicolas growls, so close to his ear that it sizzles in the microphone but he can't bring himself to care. Long fingers focus solely on his clit, applying  _ just  _ the right pressure as they move in circles against him. "I would have you just... for myself. Hire you... under the guise of being... m-my employee. But you'd be nothing more... than my toy."

Gordon nods feverishly and whimpers. 

" _ Oh _ , you'd... like that, wouldn't you? It makes you ashamed... how much you'd like being nothing more than... an older man's cocksleeve." 

His hand flies to his mouth to cover the cry he lets out. Nicolas grabs it and rips it away. "No, no. Let me... hear you. Remember those sounds are... only for me."

Nicolas has to wrap an arm around his chest to hold him steady. Gordon continues to nod, fully immersed in the fantasy of being nothing else but Nicolas' boy. Nicolas' pretty thing for him to parade. Nicolas' employee that would do _ anything _ to please his boss. Gordon toes curl, his sounds grow louder and all the less shameful. 

Gordon brings a hand to his chest.  _ Please, please, please _ , he repeats. He moves his hand clockwise over and over again, practically hitting his chest as he silently begs. " _ Please." _

"Doctor Freeman..." The older man breathes out.

" _ Please." _

"Come for me... my dear. My  _ good _ boy."

He cums on Nicolas's hand. The man continues to stroke his clit through his orgasm, making Gordon tremble against him. Nicolas covers his hand in the slick and shoves his fingers into Gordon's mouth. The young man sucks them obediently, looking up at the other. Nicolas holds him closely. Gordon feels like he's being fed. 

Nicolas slips his fingers away. Gordon feels painfully empty. 

Gordon breaks the silence when he signs after a good few minutes of nothing but panting heavily and touching each other's skin to make sure the other man is still there. As if either of them were to slip away at any moment. 

"As nice as being your toy sounds-" Gordon begins. "-I  _ do _ really like my job. I didn't get a phD for nothing."

The older man rests his head on Gordon's shoulder and lets out a loud chuckle. "No, n-no. Just... arousal driven ramblings. You really think... I wouldn't make you pay rent?"

Gordon feigns a frown. "You're rich!"

"Ah, so you're... perfectly content with me... spoiling you." 

His hands go up to his shirt. Nicolas bought it for him, his fingertips graze over the soft fabric of his shirt collar. The fabric is expensive but always cold. It doesn't carry the same warmth as his old sweaters. The coldness has become comfortable. "I never said I wasn't." Gordon signs. "But you don't have to buy me anything. I like you all the same. The money is just a bonus."

Nicolas reaches up to stroke his hair. "I... find it hard to understand... what exactly there is about me... that could be appealing."

Gordon fiddles with his hands.

"You're interesting. Handsome. Weird. In a good way." He stretches his fingers as he thinks. "You understood me so quickly. I'm not used to that."

"On the contrary... I find you very hard... to comprehend. Harder than most humans."

"Well, at least you know sign language."

That earns him a chuckle. Gordon smiles and rests his head back on the older man's shoulder.  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Nicolas stares at the ceiling as he strokes the young man's hair. If he closes his eyes, he sees stars. Infinity. He sees his employers scolding him for being so sentimental. He opens his eyes again and feels the soothing pattern of his fragile human breathing.

He wonders how he's going to tell Gordon that he  _ will  _ have to visit him in Black Mesa very soon, for better or for worse. It seems that love cannot sway his employers from delaying their plans. 

It doesn't surprise him. None of them have the advantage of once being human. No amount of power and inhumanity can make someone forget the fact that human hands are designed to fit with one another. Interlocked, held tightly.

A fifth time. A fifth chance. This might finally be the one where he might be able to take Gordon Freeman into his darkness. He has offered the man so much weakness. He thought it would terrify Gordon to see a god shiver, but here he is. Pressed beside him. Just as brave as every other universe.

  
  


\---

The morning marks a month since Gordon stepped foot inside the government man's home. He watched snow gently fall and cover the earth in a layer of ice and renewal. Nicolas' hands cover the skin of his neck as he soothes down his touch to Gordon's shoulders. It feels the same. Winter has come, a month has passed. Gordon feels new.

The older man adjusts Gordon's tie. Gordon looks at himself in the mirror.

"You... look lovely."

Gordon thanks him and turns around. Nicolas shows him his wrists. Gordon isn't sure what he's supposed to look at until he notices the pair of deep red cufflinks.

"You told me... to add a bit of... color."

He laughs. It's the same shade as his suit. 

"I like it." Gordon signs. 

Nicolas places a large hand on Gordon's shoulder. "Come. The driver's almost here. Are you ready?"

Gordon fiddles with his fingers. He isn't exactly sure what he's supposed to be ready  _ for. _ A dinner party. Celebrating what? Who's attending? Where is it?

Gordon nods and allows Nicolas to pull him outside and into the car. He'll say yes so easily. There's a danger he feels looming over his head, a thunder roars in warning every time he says yes, yes _ , yes.  _ Gordon continues to walk into the storm. 

"You're... nervous."

"A little." Gordon signs. "What do I do? Do any of them even know sign language?"

Nicolas scoffs. "I doubt it."

"Then what do I do? Act like your pretty little date? Smile and nod like a bored housewife?"

The politician crosses his arms and leans back into his seat. "Well... not a  _ bored  _ one, hopefully."

Gordon looks away from Nicolas. He focuses on the snow. He can't even get angry. What would he even  _ say _ if he could hear and speak like an abled person? Would his words matter? Would they even listen?

Nicolas rests an open palm beside him. Gordon looks at it.

"Think of it this way, my dear... Each and everyone one of... these politicians... will be kissing ass and doing their best to impress. They will... force their wives to play along into the... endless game. I am beyond them. I don't... have to play their game. Neither do you."

Gordon takes his hand. Nicolas leans closer to him. 

"Under my protection, you are freer and safer... than you could ever dream of being."

He hears the thunderous roar of lightning inside his head. Gordon looks at the window behind Nicolas -- the sky is as clear as it could be.

Nicolas nudges his open palm closer to Gordon. Gordon takes it.

"Do... you trust me, Doctor Freeman?"

Gordon nods again. He remembers the odd, damp touch against his skin when he felt what Nicolas  _ truly  _ looks like. He imagines the tentacles coiling around his neck and wrists. It should scare him. It doesn't.

He's safer than he'll ever be, after all.

The car enters a gated property. Armed guards patrol the entrance, guarding a lavish garden that adorns the outside of an equally lavish home. Gordon isn't quite sure where they are, he doubts he's supposed to. Any odd and curious looks he gets once he walks out of the car are promptly hidden away as they notice who he's with. 

They must all belong to the same social circles. Gordon clearly isn't one of them. They can tell from his  _ Pearlvision  _ glasses and his subpar haircut. He swears he saw a Kennedy walk past. 

Gordon walks closer to Nicolas and realizes he doesn't even know his lover's last name.

"What do I call you?" Gordon asks, stopping him near the door.

Nicolas smiles. "Anything but... my name, of course. What... did you call me before?"

Gordon signs the words  _ government employee  _ and  _ government man _ .

"Perfect. Do you really think... I have given any of these people my... name?"

Gordon feels a swell of pride at that. 

He takes the man's hand and follows him into the mansion.

Nicolas guides him across the large house as he runs his obligatory pleasantries. Gordon smiles and nods, pointing at his  _ I'm Deaf _ pin when he's looked at by wives trying too hard to be kind, and husbands laughing at how they only know how fingerspell their own name. Or they eagerly show him a swear they know in ASL. Gordon smiles politely when he has to, stands up straighter when his date squeezes his shoulder, and laughs when he knows it would help Nicolas look better. The perfect partner. Gordon has to play the part well to get his reward.

He was right, in a sense. Gordon doesn't have much to do at this event apart from act like a dumb yes-man. But so do most of the politicians here, more so than their own wives. Everyone is kissing ass for something, possibly to be one of the hands that get to dip their fingers into the money they're currently raising for "charity". 

Nicolas was right too. Gordon doesn't have to kiss anyone's ass in this party. He's polite because he's never been anything but. He doesn't stop Nicolas from smiling as he gently threatens a fully grown man from signing a bill. Gordon sips on his champagne and says nothing. He wonders if his silence is equally as intimidating when he's beside Nicolas.

He sees two wives whispering among themselves. Gordon glances at them and looks to the mirror beside him, pretending to fix his hair as he tries to read their lips.

"- _ How much do you think the deaf boy costs?" _ He catches.

Gordon rolls his eyes and walks to Nicolas, who is currently smoking a cigar with a group of men. He places his hands on his hips, frowning.

"You said you wouldn't smoke." Gordon signs.

The government man signs back, knowing that no one else in the room will be able to understand it. "Since when can you tell me what to do?"

Right. He has a role to play. Gordon hmphs and apologizes.

"Everything alright, my man?"

"Yes, we're just discussing dinner. And don't...  _ ever _ call me that again." Much to his relief, the older man puts out his cigar in the ashtray beside him. "This is terribly cheap." He lies.

Gordon looks down and tries to ignore the eyes on him. He huffs as the back of his neck heats up and tries not to listen in on what a donor is saying about the vice-president. 

A creeping sense of anxiety rises to his throat. Gordon manages to gulp it down and hide it beneath a pleasant smile.

"Excuse me." He signs. Nicolas' eyes widen only enough for Gordon to notice, but he doesn't move. He just watches Gordon walk away. 

Gordon walks down whatever empty hallway he can find and rips off his hearing aid. He'd call Barney if he wasn't so shaken. What is he doing, at some sort of party for  _ senators _ ? Gordon always considered himself a normal man. He's normal despite the small unconventional things that people would think would make him odd. He's trans and deaf. He's a brilliant scientist. He's had the chance to work on his studies in Europe and left solely because it wasn't hard enough. And yet, he's still just Gordon Freeman. Just another guy.

Gordon Freeman, the human in a dalliance with an outer-dimensional alien who just happens to be one of the most powerful politician in the country, apperently. He might be in over his head.

_ I shouldn't be here _ . He thinks.  _ I should be back in New Mexico thinking this was all a dream. _

For a brief moment, he allows himself to wonder. Will he be allowed to remember any of this when he returns to Black Mesa? Will all of this turn into a dream?

He's stopped by a man around a decade older than him. Gordon's eyes quickly look at his lips to read them, the man speaks immediately. 

"-I've been walking around behind you for a bit and I was trying to talk to you. Were you ignoring me?" 

Gordon gives him a polite smile and shakes his head, pointing at his ears.

" _ Oooooh,  _ yeah. Sorry about that. I didn't think-"

Gordon lets out a small sigh and shuts him up with a finger to his lips. He looks through his pockets for his hearing aids -- he wishes he didn't actually have to use them -- and puts it back on.

He takes out his phone and taps his  _ notes _ app. "I'm deaf. I didn't mean to be rude. Can I help you?" He writes and shows the man the screen.

"You're with the.. uh, tall government guy, right?" The stranger asks. 

Gordon tries to pinpoint why exactly he looks so familiar. The stranger is obviously a politician he's seen before. Definitely not from New Mexico, he likes to keep track of the representation he has from the state he's living in. Somewhere nearby, definitely. Colorado, maybe?

He nods.

The politician smiles. "Yeah, I've worked with him before. He's, uh, kind of a weirdo, huh?"

Gordon shrugs. "I suppose." He writes in response.

He glances at the ring on the man's left hand and back to the man's eyes. Gordon gives him a polite smile. 

"Is he treating ya alright? I'm Cory, by the way."  _ Republican _ , Gordon remembers. Gordon shakes his hand and writes down his name.

"Gordon. Right. You, uh..." The man called Cory trails off, thinking about his words carefully. The man steps closer. "I just... couldn't stop looking at you all party."

Gordon takes a step back, quickly realizing that there's no one else in this part of the house to stop this. He frowns and curls his hands into fists, ready to strike.

"Hey, hey - Relax. I'm not gonna do anything to you. Just wanna talk, alright?" Cory gives him a hollow, politician smile. "Can we talk?"

Gordon eyes him carefully and gestures his hand and in a  _ go ahead _ motion.

"Don't freak out." He says as a warning. It's all the warning he gives before Gordon is pushed against a wall. The younger man panics and grabs the politician's arm, digging his nails. Cory winces. 

"I told you not to freak out. Jesus." The man says in a whisper against his ear. Anyone walking by would assume the worst.  _ Nicolas _ would assume the worst. Gordon tries to push the man away for his own safety but the weight on his shoulders is solid.

" _ Listen,  _ kid. Or listen as much as you can. Can you hear me right now?"

Gordon grits his teeth and nods.

"Your fuckin' sugar daddy isn't what he seems. I know you work in Black Mesa. He's planning something big over there. I don't know what. He mentioned something about it last time he was over in Denver a few weeks ago." Cory looks around them. "He never mentions  _ anything  _ by mistake. He doesn't let anything slip, and I'm real scared of findin' out what it might mean when he makes mistakes. Maybe he's doing it on purpose. Keep your guard up, Freeman. And don't trust him. Our group says a whole lotta shit about illegal aliens but man, he's literally one. He doesn't have our best interests in mind at all. How could you trust something you can't understand? If you care about this country-" Gordon scoffs. "-don't trust him."

There's a feeling in the back of Gordon's neck that creeps up his skin. It feels like he's been near Nicolas and no one else for so long that he can sense his presence. A month feels like an eternity. Time seems to shift around him. Maybe it does. 

Gordon feels his hand shake as he tries to form a word.

"Senator Gardner... it's good to see you again."

Cory pushes Gordon away and stares at Nicolas, horrified. He glares at Gordon. Gordon rests his hands together and looks down, distraught. All of the senator's warnings were veiled with a thin layer of patriotism and politics, but there has to be a part of truth to it. Why would he warn a random scientist? A man who's clearly against everything his party stands for?

The man's words replay in his head. He's poured so much trust into Nicolas. 

The government man places his large hands on the back of Gordon's neck. It feels hot to the touch. The heat of Gordon's skin makes the man's cold hands melt. 

He runs his thumb back and forth against Gordon's hair. Gordon breaks eye contact with the other man. He cowers at the sight of his date, no longer acting like one of the most powerful man in the room. Whatever job Nicolas has, he's far above a measly senator. 

Beyond the president, probably.

"I'm sorry... did I interrupt something?" His date says slowly, carefully. He tightens his grip on Gordon's neck, pulling his head up. Gordon shudders and exhales. He was not expecting this level of jealousy from Nicolas, and he was definitely not expecting to enjoy it.

Gordon grits his teeth. He should be focusing on the warnings, but the sheer fear and anxiety of Nicolas doing something that has made a  _ senator _ try to protect the life of a random citizen is forcing him to focus on what he can feel. What he can see. What is tangible now? A strong grip against a vulnerable part of him. The inhuman being beside him. The rapid beat of his heart. Gordon rests a hand against the mansion wall to steady himself. He can feel the existence of a building securing so many humans that think themselves to be immortal.

The senator takes a step back between the couple. He glances at Gordon, almost expecting him to clear things up. Gordon's hands are frozen. He looks at no one.

"This- This is just a big misunderstanding, man. We were having a private conversation-"

Nicolas steps closer to one of the other man, still smiling. "About  _ what _ , Senator? S-Something... you shouldn't be speaking about in the first place?"

"I am  _ not  _ going to let you ruin this country because of some-"

"Did he do anything to you?"

Cory looks at him, almost pleading. 

Gordon's mind races. Whatever the senator is implying, it terrifies him. It's an odd sight to see a politician truly scared like this. Gordon has felt Nicolas' true form, he  _ must  _ be capable of truly terrifying things. It's connected to Black Mesa somehow. Why let it slip? Why tell a random senator? Why would he warn Gordon of all people?

Nicolas looks at him expectantly.

He isn't scared of the government man. He doesn't think he could ever be. Nicolas' eyes lock with his. It follows his every movement, when he's frozen it catches every time he starts to thaw. He looks into every part of him, even the ones he could never understand. Nicolas knows him all to well in the span of a month. But Nicolas will never truly understand him anymore than the sun understands the moon. 

He's trapped. 

Gordon doesn't look at anyone as he shakes his head.

The senator sighs in relief, holding his hand to his chest.

"Well... Senator. This just comes to a warning. Don't take things that aren't yours. Doctor Freeman... is  _ my  _ plus one.  _ My  _ date. He has spent almost the entirety of this dinner with  _ me _ ." He grabs Cory by the tie and speaks in a low voice. 

"You are lucky I didn't... report a few things I might know to a very hungry journalist. Or perhaps I could... bury you so deep in some building in Washington that you will never see the light of day." He lets go of the senator's tie. "Or... you can move along and let me dance with my date. You decide."

Gordon forgets about his fear and pretends his isn't flushed, embarrassed, and heating up all over. Thank god for the animal instinct still left in his species. We make ourselves transform our terror into arousal.

The Senator almost immediately steps away. Gordon wonders if his date has actually ever fulfilled that promise. By his reaction, he wouldn't be surprised if he has. Gordon let's Nicolas take his hand and drag him to the dance floor. He feels entranced. Dizzy. There's something taking over his head that makes him feel like he's floating as the older man places a hand on his waist. Gordon glances at their difference in their hands -- Nicolas' hands are so big they almost envelop his. He sighs and rests his forehead on his date's chest as they sway gently to the soft old jazz song playing overhead. 

"Don't do anything to him." Gordon warns.

Nicolas merely hums in response.

Gordon rests his head against him. He traces his fingertips over his head, heat radiating from his skin. There's a cold touch at the tip of his ears, like ice left by a burning stove. He has to pull himself away to sign. Nicolas keeps his hands on Gordon's waist.

Gordon pushes his worries down and tries to enjoy the rest of the night. He holds Nicolas' arms as if the world was about the end. He chuckles at the thought of that being what the senator was warning him about.

"What would you have done if he had actually tried to do something?" Gordon signs with a quirk of smile and flushed cheeks.

The government man clears his throat. "Something... grousome."

Gordon shakes his head and squeezes his own neck for a moment, inhaling as he tries to remember the touch. "Oh, I know. But I was asking in a sexy way."

Nicolas looks up at the ceiling and closes his eyes. Gordon won't be able to see the glow from here. It's not often that he can't control it, but this human keeps controlling him in such minor, unexpected ways. 

His date has to lower himself to speak to his hearing aid, a whisper so gentle that anyone watching them would think they're discussing the weather. Gordon doesn't notice as he lifts himself by the balls of his feet.

The hand comes back to the back of his neck. He's sure Nicolas feels Gordon exhale against his jaw. 

"If that man had soiled and tampered with my property... wouldn't it make sense to reclaim what's mine?" Nicolas hums along to the music. "I would make sure to mark you wherever he touched you. I could make you sweat and wash away... every last particle of him you have on your skin." 

Gordon closes his eyes and nods. 

"Or... would you rather I treat you like the whore you want to be?" 

The younger man digs his fingernails into Nicolas's shoulders. He rests his head on his shoulder, eyes looking at the couples around them that haven't noticed the terrible, aching things Nicolas has told him. He doesn't try to talk often, but he tries to whisper out the word  _ yes.  _ It sounds like a whisper to his hearing aid. 

He looks back at his date. "Take me home, please.."

They haven't even started the dinner yet. Gordon doesn't care. He isn't hungry. But he covets as he feels the ever constant faux heartbeat of the man in front of him.

Nicolas parts his mouth then closes it.

"You know... it's impossible for me to say no... to that."

Gordon brings a hand to his forehead. "I know. That's why I looked at you like that."

The government man rests his large hand against the curve of Gordon's neck. He says nothing. His eyes don't even glow, but the lights flicker behind around them. People gasp. Nicolas blinks and it stops. The silence continues.

Gordon waits for an answer.

"You understand me... well, Gordon. Surprisingly so."

He rolls his eyes. "You're a question that can't be answered, but that doesn't mean you aren't consistent. You've been alone too long, Nicolas. You just needed someone to give you attention, beyond the whole-" He gestures at him. "-scary politician look."

"...And what did you... need? What do you gain from me?"

"Someone to lean against."

"Is that it?... It's really... that easy?" Gordon isn't used to hearing Nicolas' voice quiver. 

"It can be if you let it."

"I... would bend the world... for you."

Gordon pats his chest. "And I can make you breakfast sometimes. Do you wanna go home?"

Nicolas answers by offering an arm for Gordon to take. He does, and they both quickly walk out the door. When someone asks where they're going, Nicolas just tells them to mind their own business. Gordon huffs out a laugh as they get into the car.

It's been raining this entire time, but the thunder finally stopped.

Gordon has his mouth on Nicolas' neck when the words of warning come back to his head. In Nicolas' shudder he sees the fear in the senator's eyes. The older man moans and Gordon thinks of Black Mesa. He carries so much weight in his shoulders that he'll never be able to put down. Gordon presses down his weight on Nicolas's lap. 

"Oh... Doctor Freeman." The man groans. "I thought this time... things would be- _ "  _ He cuts himself off.

Gordon doesn't have time to think of what that could possibly mean as Nicolas pushes into him. The driver turns up the radio as he gasps. Gordon digs his finger into Nicolas' expensive suit.

He hides his face in the older man's neck so he can't notice Gordon is distracted.  _ Don't trust him.  _ The three words linger whether he likes it or not. They repeat in his head when he cums. They scream as Nicolas carries him inside. He sees them behind the blindfold as he's wrapped in tentacles and hands reaching out to touch every part of his skin. 

In his dream, he's standing in darkness. He sees nothing, not even his own hands. A light appears far away as it forms the shape of a door. Gordon sees Nicolas, but Nicolas is facing away. 

The words finally shut up as he dreams. 

When he wakes up, they echo.  
  


**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos are appreciated <3


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